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Ye noise-making, sash-breaking, Lacqueys of FacYe insane Disturbers, who're bit by Distractions, Think what you're about, when the loudest you bawl, Not a man that you're mad for but laughs at ye all.
Who Patriots were once now are Patriots no more,
To be wise is the word; how that word comes about
The World has, without one exception, a Rule,
Let us now serve ourselves, fill our Glasses, fill high, We'll laugh when we're pleas'd, and we'll drink
when we're dry; And we'll drink the King's Health, 'tis the best
Toast of all
to the KING, I presume it is meet, after meat we shou'd sing, For thus prescribes Galen ;-" Life's Health to
prolong, “ Take Dinner's digestive, a Glass, and a Song." To him the Diplomists their judgements resign, So fiat mixturam, 'tis Music and Wine.
Old Homer, who Shakespeare-like, all Nature knew,
It was Cacus (some say) tho' that's not Orthodox,
Then call’d out for Vulcan, the God, limping, came,
When Juno, that instant, a female peal rung,
AN's all. Contradiction, a medley Machine,
Now this Thing, and now he is that ; To-day all in Spirits, to-morrow all Spleen, The next, knows not what to be at.
When in Love,-how he labours the prize to obtain,
If luck'ly, he draws Beauty's Lot, He'll hate what he has, nay, Possession's a Pain,
And he's mad to have what he has not.
When the wind's in the East, sad and sick of his life,
As if under Spell of Queen Mab;
Abroad, Jerry Sneak to his Drab.
And laughs at Eternity's Doom;
If a Mouse only moves in the room.
Nay, dye e'er his Country disgrace ;
Then, rising, runs off for a Place. Wives, Sisters, or Daughters, wherever he stays,
A prey for Debauch he intends; Proper Gratitude thus for his Welcome he prays,
It is right to be fond of one's Friends.
Shou'd Pique prompi his Spouse to retaliate in kind,
He'll bellow Death, Vengeance, and all; My pistols bring quick!—but, quick changing his
mind On his Proctor, imprimis, he'll call.
When maudlin at night, as 'tis nightly the case,
How loving the Creature appears; While drops from dimn eyes trickle down his
smear'd face, And Hickups keep Time to his Tears.
Foolish friendships he'll proffer, and fulsome repeat,
But the zeal of the night snor'd away,
If not, he don't know you next day.
Not the best of us all, not a Man is exempt;
If ourselves we impartially scan;
Misconduct is Master of Man.
As against our own wills we are tumbled to Town,
So reluctant again we go out;
We Wisdomites blunder about.
Still blunder we must, as we're born but to die,
And as wise in the Dark as the Light ;
Here's a Bumper to prove ourselves right.
And Shepherds releasing their care,